Present

“This is such a bad idea,” my patient, Ginny, says to me as I make the final turn of our journey.

And she isn’t wrong in the least bit. This is a bad idea. In fact, this is the worst idea that I have ever had, and believe me, I’ve made some questionable decisions over the course of my life. Decisions that usually involved a man or my brother’s motorcycle club somehow. It wasn’t easy growing up as their little princess, and the first time that I ever felt free, was the day I kissed that part of my life goodbye. Fate had another plan for me, and I’ve never looked back, until now when I really need them in my hour of desperate despair. I just hope that my brother won’t put us out on our asses to fend for ourselves, after how I left this life behind.

“You’re right. It’s not the most logical direction that we should take,” I tell her with a sigh exiting my lips, right after the words leave my mouth. “But it’s not like we have any other options at this point.”

“I know,” Ginny mutters. “I just hate the idea of dragging them into my mess. I’ve already done that to you, and I feel so guilty.”

I try not to laugh at her insinuation this club would be going out of their way to do some dastardly and illegal deed. She feels guilty for involving a band of men who have done more nefarious things in their lives, than the average human being could even dream about. The things I’ve witnessed as a childhood bystander, still makes my skin crawl. My father was a sick and twisted bastard who enjoyed torturing those around him and their families. While he never once subjected me to that kind of thing, I still knew about it despite my mother and brother’s feeble attempt to shield me from that part of the club life. He was pure evil, and it didn’t take years of graduate school to figure out that my father was a homegrown sociopath with a penchant for loose women and illegal activities.

I reach across the console, and give her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. Ginny didn’t deserve this kind of life, and despite her past, I can see the scared, little girl inside of her. She may have entered my life as a patient, but after years of privately treating her, she’d become more of a friend. Something that I desperately needed in my life, when secrecy and a past of misery lay at my feet.

“We’re in this together whether we like it or not. This is our only chance to survive.”

“I know,” she nearly whispers. “I just don’t want to face him again. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When it was safe, I was supposed to come back.”

“Safety is never something that is guaranteed in this world. Dangers lurk around every corner, and right now, danger is shoving us back to a place we both ran from. Give it time,” I tell her. “My brother won’t hang us out to dry.” Hopefully.

Ginny’s face drops at the mention of my brother, and I know the reason in an instant. Her own brother, that I hadn’t until recently learned, was a part of the same club. He was also seeing one of my other patients. Why do all things seem to point right back to this damn place? I run, and it just follows me. It’s ridiculous.

“Don’t worry about him. He’ll be happy to see you.”

“At first. Then he’ll be pissed.”

Something that I couldn’t fault him for because again his kid sister faked her own death, but that issue is between them, unless they want me to mediate their reunion in a professional manner. Other than that, my nose would stick to my own business with my own brother who might be a little pissed. Ginny needs to face him, if she is ever going to get past the guilt she holds over how they left things. This could be her first test towards finding herself again. Well, and taking care of our little issue that is currently hunting us down.

A familiar sight comes across the horizon, and my heart thumps like a drumline within my chest. It was a place that held so many hurtful memories of my childhood, and mostly of my father.

Don’t think of him. Not now. He’s dead. Put him in the past and move on.

As the parking lot entrance comes closer into view, my mind begins second guessing this decision. Like Ginny, my brother and I’s relationship was estranged at best. Growing up, we were thick as thieves, but when my father died, something changed in him. The kindness that I once knew slipped away to something darker. He became the shadow of my father. I just had to hope that in the years we’ve spent apart that my brother hadn’t become the proverbial apple that fell from my father’s crazy tree, because I didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms.

The parking lot is fuller than I expected, when I turn in. Sundays were usually the lighter days at the Heaven’s Rejects Clubhouse because everyone was either still drunk, passed out, or dragged home by their old ladies. To say that I was surprised by the number of cars and bikes still here is an understatement. The club must have partied late last night for this many people to still be lingering around.

“There goes my plan for a quiet entrance,” I mutter under my breath. I sneak a look over to Ginny, and her face is a coiled mess of anxiety and fear.

I quickly find an open space, pull in, and kill the engine to the car I bought with cash back in Oklahoma. I unclick my seatbelt, and stare at the entrance of my former home. The weathered look of the building that I remember has faded away into a more modern architectural style with dark new siding, and a far less scary vibe ebbing from it.

At least my brother invested more into this place than my father did. It doesn’t look half bad I begrudgingly have to admit. I had honestly expected to find it a crumbled heap of rumble with some haphazardly built shelter to replace it.

Maybe he has changed.

Ginny looks over to me with fear registering in her eyes that plead for me to find another way out of our situation. I plaster on a smile trying to ease her.

“It’ll be alright, Ginny.”

“I hope so.”

Taking one last deep breath, I pop the handle on the door and step into the hot California sun for the first time in years. The rays beat down on my skin, and the sting of it feels almost comforting, after living in the Midwest for so long.

“Welcome home, Presley,” I mutter to myself, before shutting the door of the car behind me, as I begin taking my last steps of freedom.

Home sweet home never terrified me more.

Ginny slides from the car behind me, and jogs up to my left side.

“Last chance to turn around,” I whisper to myself, as I pull open the door.

I step into the room and shock registers immediately. So much has changed, and so many women and children now fill the main room of the clubhouse, and every one of them has fallen silent. Face after face turns to look at me, and likely there are a few hidden guns ready to be drawn from the few men seated at the bar in the far corner. Not a single face looks familiar.

Shit. I should have called first. I just walked us both in the viper pit without a single weapon to protect either of us or a way back out for us to escape.

Ginny presses tightly against me, and I can feel the shiver from her body rattle against my own.

Rushing into a clubhouse with guns and trigger-happy men may have been the stupidest mistake of all, despite having once been a part of the family here. I take a deep breath and try to center myself. It doesn’t work.

“Can I help you, doll face?” one of the men from the bar says, as he slides from the barstool with his beer still in hand. “You two lovely ladies looking for a job?” he asks with a curious cocked brow. His eyes rake over our bodies; sizing us up most likely thinking we are club whores. He stops just one step of being uncomfortably close. He’s tall and looks like a damn Viking with his blond beard and longer hair. I get the sudden feeling that I’m a little fish in a predator-filled pond.

You should have called. You’re being stupid, Presley.

“Looks like the cat has your tongue, doll face,” he teases and those within ear shot laugh.

“I’m here to see Mikey. I mean, Michael,” I stammer out. Ginny’s hand reaches for mine, and when she finds it, she squeezes hard.

 

“The Prez is a little tied up at the moment, which you could be too if you say the word,” he continues with a cocky smile. “Can I take a message?”

“Tell him his sister is here to see him,” I demand.

“The Prez doesn’t have a sister,” he laughs. “Nice try.”

I guess my brother really hasn’t changed much since the last time I’ve seen him, if his club brother doesn’t know about me. Just great. This will be harder than I imagined.

“Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” I insist, standing my ground. “Or better yet, ask Maj.”

He hisses at the sound of my sister in law’s name.

“That bitch doesn’t breathe here anymore.”

Something has definitely happened there. Thanks for telling me, Mom. I never liked the woman, but she should have at least told me that my brother had split from his wife.

“Darcy!” the man yells over his shoulder.

“Jesus, Slider,” a feminine voice rings out from one of the hallways. “This better not be a summons to judge another gun show between you and Ratchet again. I just got Roxie down for a nap.”

“Got a woman here who says she’s Raze’s sister. Do you know anything about that?”

Shuffled footsteps come quickly from behind him.

“Move your ass out of the way, Slider,” she orders from behind the man blocking my entry. A petite woman with dark hair sidesteps him and gasps at the sight of me. “Presley? Is that really you?”

“Um, hi.” I declare with a slight wave.

“You idiot,” the woman I now know as Darcy scolds the great wall of man in front of me. “Let her and her friend in the damn room.”

I look to both of them with confusion clear on my face.

“I know we haven’t met, but I’m Darcy, your brother’s fiancée. Your mom has told me so much about you.”

Woah, wait. Did she just say fiancée? That explains the reaction I got when I mentioned Maj. He’s divorced or she’s dead. There’s no telling with this club, which way she walked or crawled out this door.

“Nice to meet you,” I automatically respond. I don’t mean to be so cold, but our little problem is a bit more pressing than introductions. “Can I see my brother?”

The woman flinches slightly at my lack of warmth towards her, but she’s a stranger to me. This entire place is filled with strangers. I honestly don’t know why I was expecting to see familiar faces knowing how much of a revolving door this kind of place has.

“Sure,” Darcy affirms. “I’ll take you back to his office. Follow me.”

She turns on her heels, and we fall in line behind her. Ginny stays close, as we cross the room with all eyes still on us. I notice out of the corner of my eye that the man who stopped us has returned to the bar, and that’s when I notice his prospect cut. He’s not a full member, which explains his overreaction to our presence in the club. He’s still trying to get his foot in the door to become a full member, and he took this opportunity to assert his authority over someone for once. Too bad for him, that I can see his act a mile away. My father had numerous prospects during my childhood, and he taught me that they were here to pay their dues and do the members bidding. They were the lowest rung on the MC food chain, and the least of my worries.

Darcy leads us to my father’s old office, and an odd sense of nostalgia hits me hard. I spent many days sitting on my father’s lap in the room that my brother now occupies. He loved me in his own way during the early years of my life, and inside this room, was one of the few happy memories that I did have of my father, before his world turned to darkness, drugs, and death.

We stop short of the door, and Darcy knocks. My brother’s gruff voice echoes off the walls from inside, as she twists open the door.

Mikey sits inside behind the desk. His head is shaven now, and his beard is nearly all gray with a few patches of his dark hair flecked amongst the stubble across his chin. His face remains focused on his work, before he notices me. He pushes away from his desk and in three large strides, he engulfs my body in a hug.

“I thought you’d never come back,” he mutters against the top of my head.

I relax against his familiar embrace, forgetting for a split second why we are here in the first place. He releases me, and his eyes catch Ginny behind me.

“Is that?” he asks, looking between the two of us.

“Yes,” I respond.

“I take it this isn’t a social call then,” he declares gruffly.

“No, it’s not. We need your help.”